


for gods so loved

by robotchangeling



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, a little sweet a little sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotchangeling/pseuds/robotchangeling
Summary: Samot says: Artificer-Divine, tell me of your creations.





	for gods so loved

Samot wants to know the world, and Samothes is willing to indulge him. 

In their beginning, they stand overlooking a great city of Samothes’ making, the midday sun warm upon their shoulders. Samot says: _Great Artificer-Divine, tell me of your creations_. And Samothes tells him: homes to keep my people safe, tools to farm the earth and to tend to Severea’s other creatures. A capital city that rearranges as I see fit, infrastructure forever-improving. A great forge, with which to create even more. The sun, the sun, the sun.

Together they sit in the afterglow of the year’s brightest day, after the sun has set and the guests retreated. Samot raises a goblet to his lips and asks again. _Artificer, tell me of your creations_. Samothes threads a hand into his love’s hair and says: a school, for you. A library, for you, with rows upon rows of shelves I still fear filling. Your own quarters here, though they see little use. Lanterns to read by. A cloak, a crown. Anything you ask and more.

They cling to each other as the world grows dark. Elsewhere in the house, Maelgwyn sleeps.  
_Tell me_. Samot whispers now; the blade above their heads threatens to sever them if they speak of it too openly. Samothes grasps his hand and says: a sword for our son, and armor, though he thinks himself invincible. New hinges for the squeaky back door. A plan of protection for my city, should it ever have need to go on without me.

_That wouldn't happen_ , Samot insists. _I’d be here to call you back_ , Samot insists, but his voice shakes, and Samothes pulls him closer. Dawn is only hours away, but Hieron’s nights are dark. It is easier to question the Sun’s permanence than they had once thought.

**Author's Note:**

> fear of death makes great pillow talk, huh?  
> find me on tumblr @littlesocialistrobot


End file.
